You were angry with your father. You were angry with me, his wife. You had your list of grievances, Your version of that night. You had every right to feel things, Every right to make your choice. But they were your sisters, Aaron. Why did you give them your voice? They weren't there for the conversations. They hadn't lived what you had lived. They weren't asking for a battle. They had nothing to forgive. But you carried them your anger, And gave them reasons to condemn. If this was really yours with Dad, Why did you hand it all to them? CHORUS They were your sisters. You should have guarded what was theirs— Their relationship with their father, Their own memories, their own years. You could have said, “This is between us. You don't have to choose a side.” But instead you drew them into it, And something precious died. You'd already had so much of him— The ball games and the years, The ordinary days together, His labor, time and care. They lived farther from their father. They'd already gotten less. Why would someone who had had so much Help leave his sisters with even less? And maybe you believed each word Of everything you chose to say. But that doesn't give you the right To take somebody else's choice away. They deserved to ask their father. They deserved to hear his side. They deserved their own relationship Without inheriting your fight. CHORUS They were your sisters. You should have guarded what was theirs— Their relationship with their father, Their own memories, their own years. You could have said, “I'm angry with Dad, But don't make my anger yours.” Instead they helped you fight a battle And paid for someone else's war. Maybe they'll never see it differently. But maybe someday they will. If they do, they may forgive you. Whether they do or not , . . Still You could hate me. You could blame me. You could walk away from me. But why did your sisters have to lose their dad because you were angry with me? If the day comes when they realize There was more they didn't know, Will you be able to look your sisters in the eyes And tell them why you let them go? Because you lost something with your father. That was yours to choose. But they were your sisters, Aaron. They didn't have to lose him too.
